Hostage
by ALEO
Summary: Don discovers a neighbour is more than he seems when he finds himself taken hostage in his own apartment. Written for Clue Challenge #24, June 2011, at hurt don on LiveJournal. Prompts: Who? – Don. What? – Handcuffs. Where? – Apartment. - COMPLETE -
1. Chapter 1

**Numb3rs: Hostage**

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

_**A/N:**__ Written for Clue Challenge #24, June 2011, at hurt_don on LiveJournal. Prompts: __**Who?**__ – Don. __**What? **__– Handcuffs. __**Where?**__ – Apartment._

_**Spoilers: **__nil_

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_**Don discovers a neighbour is more than he seems when he finds himself taken hostage in his own apartment.**_

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**CHAPTER ONE**

He was tired, it was his first day off in who knew how long and he could hardly be blamed for feeling safe in his own apartment building.

Whatever the reason it hardly mattered, not when he was near strangling as the chain from a pair of handcuffs bit into the skin of his neck putting painful pressure against his windpipe. The hands linked by the cuffs were braced against the back of his head creating an unbreakable hold. His own hands were up, pulling desperately downwards in a less than successful effort to reduce the strain. His body and his reactions were keyed to protecting his airway and he was unable to release his grip to even try to fight the man holding him.

"Let him go!"

"Gimme a gun!" The man countered.

"No way," the detective responded. "Let the man go."

Despite the words being shouted back and forth Don could barely spare the concentration to listen to them, or pay much attention to the guns being pointed his way as his body was screaming at him that he was about to die. He struggled to calm himself, to regain control and finally it seemed to work, the words shouted back by the man behind him became clearer for all the good it did him.

"I'm not going to jail. Give me your gun or I'll choke him!"

The grip became crushing and Don gagged as his back arched. His head pounded as his blood pressure soared. On the tips of his toes now Don's hands scrabbled to gain sufficient purchase to save himself but the man had leverage and unyielding metal to his advantage.

"Alright!" The detective shouted. "Easy!"

The pressure eased and Don could hear again as he was able to gain a tortured partial breath that did little to ease the black spots crowding the edges of his vision.

"I can't give you my gun but we'll back off and give you some space so everyone can relax a bit."

"I want a gun!"

"No gun," the detective said as he holstered his, pulling his jacket back over the holster to conceal it. He waved his hands at the officers arranged around them in the hallway and weapons were lowered. The man's voice slowed and dropped in volume, his words measured as he tried to calm things down. "Parker, let the man breathe. We're going to move back a bit so you can think things through. Deal?"

Don heard the man's harsh breathing as he thought the offer over. He was in no position to add his own two cents; the chain from the cuffs was still stretched taut over his neck and restricted his breathing. Abruptly he felt the pressure change as he was dragged backwards, through an open doorway and he recognised his own apartment. The door was kicked closed before he was shoved hard against it. The man's weight pressed against him as the grip once again tightened on his throat, stopping just short of completely blocking his airway.

"You fight me and I'll kill you," the man hissed harshly in his ear. "You feeling me?"

He needed to breathe, his whole being was focused on that and at the moment, deep in oxygen debt, he was far from a highly trained federal agent and wasn't able to offer any resistance. Don managed a bare movement of his head, a fraction of an inch but it was enough for the desperate man. He was yanked back away from the door, spun and propelled deeper into his apartment before the cuffed hands were jerked free from his neck. Before he could draw his first full breath in what felt like forever there was a heavy impact against the side of his head and he went down.

He became aware again lying on the floor partially curled, coughing and hacking with his hands protectively wrapped around his throat against the raw pain each breath cost him. He grunted, trying to clear his throat but the pain flared and he knew his larynx was badly bruised and had been very nearly crushed. He was lucky to still be alive.

As his thinking cleared he couldn't help but mentally slap himself for being so stupid. He'd been roused from deep sleep by sounds of a disturbance in the apartment next to his. Angry and frustrated at being woken from the first solid hours of sleep he'd had in the last few days he'd not thought about what he could be walking into as he'd rushed from his apartment and out into the hall. Everything had gone rapidly downhill from there. He'd seen a group of men struggling and he'd shouted angrily at them before several things happened all at once. He recognised a couple of black LAPD uniforms in the melee before a man broke free at the distraction and rushed him. With only a few feet separating them and his mind still dulled by sleep Don had barely registered the fact before it was too late. A few moments later however he certainly registered the fact that he was unable to breathe and the instant reaction of the police to the hostage drama that had suddenly developed.

Breaking his revisit of how he'd ended up lying on his own floor hands grabbed at him and pulled him up. He got his eyes open and saw a face close to his and a flash of something black before he was falling backwards to land on something soft, his couch. Blinking he pulled himself together to focus his eyes and try to take stock of his situation. A man stood over him and his instinctive check for weapons found a Glock being held in the man's cuffed hands. It wasn't hard to guess that it was his. The man had obviously had enough time to find the weapon whilst its rightful owner had been lying helplessly on the floor recovering. Looking away from the weapon he gave the man a once over, seeing the sort of casual clothing he would expect to see someone in his building wearing early on a Sunday morning, loose jeans and a t-shirt. He himself was only wearing thin sweatpants and a light shirt.

He turned his attention to the man's face and he received a shock as he recognised his new neighbour, even if they'd never been formally introduced. He'd only seen the man a couple of times over the last month but they'd exchanged friendly enough nods even if they'd never spoken. The gaze focused back on him now however was hard and calculating.

"Where are the keys?"

Don tried to repeat the word in confusion but his throat seized, leading to more hacking coughs. His head was jerked up and his thoughts, still slightly scattered, turned to getting his hair cut real soon to stop that happening again.

"Keys!"

Pulling one hand away from its protective position over his throat Don waved towards the stand beside the door and the bowl that contained the keys to his Suburban. He'd finally figured what the man meant and it wasn't car keys the man was after but the ring also held the handcuff key that he did want. The hand in his hair released its painful hold and he paid little attention to the man as he got his breathing back under control.

"Get back down."

Looking up Don saw the man emphasise his order with a jerk of the gun, his hands now free. Wondering why the man had just pulled him up from the floor only to order him back down he did as instructed, still in no position to fight back. His hands were yanked behind him and he felt the cuffs bite into his wrists as the man locked them firmly into place. Once again he was hauled up and shoved back onto the couch, the cuffs now digging painfully into his back. He shifted to relieve the pressure and looked back up at his less than friendly neighbour.

"What the hell?" At least that was what he tried to say. Instead he barely managed a croak that descended into coughing once again serving to remind him that he shouldn't try to speak due to the damage done to his throat. He looked at the man, willing him to understand his question. _Parker_, he reminded himself, _the man's name was Parker._

"So, you're the fed," Parker said, almost calmly now that he had solid control over his hostage and apparent control over the situation.

Don nodded, forgoing his usual grimace at the comment. The building manager loved dangling the fact that an FBI agent lived in the building to potential tenants. At least he'd managed to convince the manager not to reveal his name or apartment number.

Parker turned the Glock over in his hands. He'd found it on Don's nightstand and would have seen the ID folder lying next to it. "Do they know?"

This time he shook his head carefully before shrugging. He'd not recognised the detectives or the uniforms in the hall. It wouldn't be long though before they found out. Their first step would be to identify the hostage as they worked on a plan to resolve the standoff.

"They'll find out soon though, I guess," Parker said as if reading his thoughts before he swore under his breath. "Of all the people in this building it had to be you. Got me a gun though, so I supposed it's not all bad."

_That all depends on your perspective_, Don thought to himself. Then again, having the chain from the cuffs off his neck and being able to breathe again was a big plus for him.

There was a sound from the hall making Parker rush to the door and peer through the spy hole.

"I've got a gun now so don't even think about trying anything!" Parker shouted through the door. He pointed the stolen weapon at the couch opposite Don and pulled the trigger as proof. He pressed his eye against the spy hole again before grunting in satisfaction. "That got them moving."

Unable to speak Don simply looked at the man as he returned to stand near him once again.

"You're probably wondering what the hell you just walked into, right?"

Don nodded again as he realised Parker had understood his question after all. It had just taken him a while to get to it.

"They were raiding me and I was none too happy about it. But I figure you noticed that," Parker started. "Guess I hadn't covered my tracks as well as I'd thought. Or did you tip them off?"

At the suddenly harsh question Don quickly shook his head. The denial made all the more urgent as the acrid smell of the recently fired gun reached his senses. He didn't have a clue why his neighbour had been raided. He opened his mouth to try to speak but Parker beat him to it.

"Nah, you're barely ever here," the man said before interpreting the new expression on his captive's face. "I'm not going to tell you what they're after me for, they Mirandized me and you're a fed. If they found me they've probably got enough to put me away. The important part is I don't want to go to jail."

Now Don allowed himself a grimace. That much he understood all too clearly.

"Yeah, sorry." Parker actually did sound regretful. He waved his left hand in a gesture Don took to mean his neck. "And sorry about that, it hurt me probably nearly as much as it hurt you."

Parker rubbed at the back of his right wrist with his spare hand and Don saw the welt there, matched by the one on the back of his left. They did look painful but he found it hard to believe they hurt as much as his neck and throat did. He couldn't find any sympathy for the man even as he wondered at the man's sudden apparent empathy for him so he simply stared back.

"Don't care, huh? Fair enough I guess, given the circumstances. But it doesn't matter what you think, you're going to be my ticket out of here."

This time he slowly shook his head in an effort to tell the man that he wasn't going to get what he wanted.

Parker misunderstood. "That's the way it's going to be," he said firmly. "So, how does this work? They call and I make the demand, right?"

Don sighed then swallowed carefully as his throat spasmed at the larger movement of air. Anyone who'd ever seen a cop show or movie would know how it worked. A nod.

Parker closely inspected the keys in his hand. "Suburban?" Receiving a positive response he added, "Black, I'm guessing. Where is it parked, basement?"

Another nod.

"Good. Hey, you want some water?"

All this nodding and shaking of his head because he couldn't speak was not helping his injured throat and he'd started hacking again. Unable now due to the restraint of the cuffs to use his hands to support his neck his throat hurt even more with each cough than it had earlier and he tried to bring himself under control. He managed another nod. He didn't know if he was going to be able to swallow the water but he wanted some.

Parker moved to the kitchen and Don saw a carving knife sitting on the bench top, clearly after knocking him to the floor Parker had grabbed the first available weapon before making a search of his apartment. He'd probably just been checking to see if his hostage was alone but after finding the gun he wanted earlier he'd discarded the knife.

As the man started opening cabinets to look for a glass Don saw a chance and glanced quickly at his door.

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	2. Chapter 2

**Numb3rs: Hostage**

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

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**CHAPTER TWO**

With a quick glance reassuring him that Parker was engrossed in his task Don shifted slightly on the couch as he turned his attention back to his front door.

The thought of escape died quickly however as he saw the chain was in place, way too high for him to reach with cuffed hands. He could use his mouth to slide it aside but then he'd have put his back to the door to try to turn the deadbolt by feel before he could even try for the handle. A normally simple task was suddenly difficult in his current position and would take far too much time. Distracted as he may be at the moment Parker was sure to be on him before he'd even come close to getting the door open. He remembered the earlier threat in his ear and whilst things had calmed down since there was now a gun in play. He had to wait until he could be sure he had a reasonable chance of success before attempting his escape.

Parker returned a minute later, a glass of water in his spare hand. At Don's raised eyebrow he stood back a moment. "Look, I'm not much of a fan of cops, or feds, but your being in this mess isn't your fault. You gave me the chance I needed, and a gun, so I'm good with giving you some water for your throat."

Accepting the offer for what it was Don nodded and took a mouthful of water as the glass was tipped up. Swallowing hurt but he took another careful sip before pulling back and nodding his thanks.

"See? As far as you're concerned I'm not such a bad guy."

Don barely caught the snort at that. A glass of water did not a good guy make, not with everything else he was doing. Careful not to antagonise the man and trying not to be too accusatory he once again arched an eyebrow and glanced briefly down at the gun. He wanted to get his point across, given their current situation and despite his protestations, Parker was a bad guy.

Putting the glass aside Parker perched on the edge of the coffee table, turning the gun over in his hands in contemplation. After a moment he looked back as up one side of his mouth quirked up in a wry smile. "I see your point. Perhaps not a good guy then," he admitted. The smile slipped away as he nodded out through the door. "If they had their way I'd be on my way to jail right now instead of here and I'm sure you'd rather that's where I was, hmm?"

Don's enforced silence was making the man talkative. Giving a slight shrug of one shoulder he tried to keep his expression relatively neutral. He had no idea why the man had been raided or arrested even if his subsequent actions suggested he needed to be in custody. If the man rightfully thought he was just an innocent bystander then despite their current situation it should work in his favour.

"It's what I'd want in your position," Parker said before standing and pacing for a moment. "Look, you can help me right? Don't look at me like that, I know you can help, you're a fed. You get me out of here and I'll let you go as soon as we're clear."

Don considered. The man's desperate, yet confidently violent, action out in the corridor suggested that he needed to consider the possibility that Parker could kill him as he'd earlier threatened. That contrasted somewhat to apologising to him and giving him water for his throat. As to whether any of that translated to a willingness to release him if he did get away was another story.

He glanced once again at the gun. His first reaction was for Parker to go to hell but the threat posed by the weapon was a good one and he could be honest with himself in understanding he was going to be obeying the man's orders until he could find a way to escape. He'd stood against armed offenders before in an effort to save lives, but here today it was just his own life on the line, no one else's. It came down to the simple fact that he didn't want to die. There was really no choice, he had to do as he was ordered but as a federal agent he wasn't going to make it easy.

Parker frowned as he read something in his hostage's expression. He hadn't missed the latest glance at the weapon in his hands. He brought it up, his expression hardening as he aimed it the agent. "You don't know me but you need to have one thing clear, I will use this if I have to. Fed or no fed. You feeling me?"

Don's eyes narrowed as the mood abruptly darkened. He pulled his gaze away from the muzzle of the gun and studied Parker's face but saw nothing to doubt that he could make good on the threat. Parker was right; Don really didn't know who he was dealing with. He was saved from responding by the sound of his landline ringing.

They both looked to the phone before staring at each other. Don waited as Parker looked at him appraisingly.

"Negotiator?"

Don shook his head. Too soon. It would be one of the detectives from the hall most likely, following the book and making some contact with the barricaded subject. The early contact was necessary to let the subject know he'd not been forgotten and that his needs were important. The longer they let it run without at least touching base the more desperate the subject was likely to become placing the hostage at greater risk.

"Hunh. Then they can wait."

At that Don shook his head emphatically before jerking his head at the phone. Parker needed to at least answer the call, even if he didn't make his demands at this stage. It wasn't just the subject that was normally somewhat desperate at this early stage; the police on the scene were still operating on adrenalin and would likely react if they felt they had to.

"You're saying I should answer it?" Parker queried. "They're not going to be able to give me anything though, are they?"

He'd nodded his head at the first question but now followed up with a slow shake of his head. Again he ground his teeth together, this time in frustration. He needed to be able to speak or even write notes but he could do neither to make himself more clearly understood. He jerked his head again at the phone.

"Fine." Parker moved, plucking the cordless handset from its base and pressing the button to answer the call. "What? ... I already got your name when you cuffed me. ... That's right. I've got a gun now so you better stay back. ... The fed? Yeah I know who he is. He's fine and will stay that way unless you do something stupid. ... Huh, I don't think he's up to much talking."

Able only to hear one side of the conversation it was simple enough to follow what was being asked based on Parker's responses. The latest response was to a demand to speak to the hostage. Don caught Parker's eye and nodded, he would have to try to speak to them, or more likely cough at them. Whatever he managed, they needed to know he was still alive and in one piece.

"Wait." Parker snapped into the phone. He returned to his perch on the coffee table, the handset pressed against his chest to afford some privacy. "You just tell them you're okay, nothing else."

As the gun jerked to reinforce the command and remind him of the potential consequences Don rolled his eyes, what else did he have to say assuming he could even string more than two words together? He looked back over at the man now frowning in him in displeasure and after a brief stare, nodded his understanding of the order. He'd insisted on the call being answered, he needed to play his role.

"Yes?" Don tried to say after Parker held the handset up against his ear. It was too much and his throat spasmed again.

"_Special Agent Don Eppes?"_ The man on the end of the line asked before the tone sharpened into an urgent question as Don coughed. _"Are you alright?"_

Don managed a response that let the detective know he'd both got the name right and he was mostly okay.

"_This is Detective Goodridge, Agent. I know you're hurting but has he done anything else to you?"_

He was reminded of the blow to the side of his head that had dropped him to the floor moments after he'd been dragged into his apartment. Aside from a headache and a dull throbbing from his scalp he was fine so it didn't really count. For now.

"No." Even that simple word was almost more than his throat could handle, swallowing he almost gagged but succeeded in holding off another coughing fit.

"_He's got your weapon?"_

The detective needed the confirmation even though he'd likely been amongst those that had heard the shot Parker had fired. Don repeated his earlier positive response, a cautious two tone grunt that seemed to hurt his throat less than real words, but not by much.

"_Alright, Agent. Sit tight, we'll get you out."_ Goodridge reassured.

It wasn't like he could do much else. Don pulled his head away from the phone having done his part for now.

"Happy now?" Parker demanded into the handset. "He reckons you can't give me what I want but I'll make it simple for you. Tell whoever's in charge that I want a car out the front, fully gassed up, keys in it and engine running. Soon. Got it? ... Yeah, the fed and I are going for a ride." He pressed the button and put the handset down on the coffee table beside him.

Parker gazed speculatively at his hostage for a few seconds. "Good thing you can't talk. You know I don't want that car don't you?"

The interest in his Suburban earlier suggested Parker was planning on taking his car for his getaway. The demand for a car out the front was a piece of misdirection, and a good one at that. Responding with a single nod he was fast coming to the conclusion that Parker was far more familiar with these situations than his original assessment.

"I thought so," Parker said as he picked up the glass of water. "More?"

The offer was incongruous to the previous tension that had been interrupted by the detective's call but Don needed the water. Another nod and he found it a little easier to swallow this time, the water soothing more than it hurt. He finished about half the glass before the balance between pain and relief started to tip the other way and he pulled back.

"How long before they call back?"

If Don was running this it wouldn't be long but he really had no idea how long the detective would leave it. They had the man's demands so perhaps they'd hold off making contact again for a while rather than force the creation of a deadline. He shrugged.

Parker looked across the room and Don turned to follow the line of sight, seeing the clock on his microwave.

8:27am.

He couldn't help blinking at that, it felt way later than that. It meant he'd only been home for just over four hours after checking over the paperwork from his team's arrest yesterday.

"I guess the boss cops aren't even up yet, right?"

Don shrugged again. It was early, but the calls should already have been made and things would be moving.

"So I guess we wait then." Parker decided. At Don's nod he stood, taking the phone handset with him. He put it out of Don's reach on the kitchen bench. "For a little while. Stay put."

He had no plans to do anything else for the moment, it was far too early in the game and Parker was still keeping him under close enough observation to prevent a try for the door.

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	3. Chapter 3

**Numb3rs: Hostage**

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

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**CHAPTER THREE**

"More?" Parker asked, holding up the refilled glass of water.

This time he drank almost the entire glass before his throat warned him enough was enough. He pulled away and tried a word, "Thanks."

At the pained, gravelly sound Parker seemed pleased. "You're getting better."

That earned the man a one shoulder shrug and a slight grimace, he didn't feel much better. It was all he could do to not start coughing. He wouldn't be trying any more words for a while if he could avoid it.

"Thanks for the toast," Parker continued. He'd helped himself to some food whilst waiting for time to tick by. "They jumped me just as I was getting into my breakfast."

Settling for another half shrug Don just looked at the man, it wasn't like he had a choice in the matter.

"Well, thanks anyway," Parker said again, correctly interpreting the expression on his hostage's face. "This doesn't need to be any more unpleasant than it has to be. As long as you do as I say." He added.

Don just held the man's gaze at the latest threat.

Parker nodded. "Good, we're on the same wavelength. It'll be easier for both of us that way. So, I think it's time we got this show on the road. Will they have isolated your phone yet?"

Glancing at the time on his microwave Don saw that only half an hour had passed. It was barely enough time but possible. He inclined his head slightly and shrugged.

"I guess we'll find out." Parker picked up the handset, pressing the talk button as he did so. He paced away as he waited for it to connect. "Goodridge right? My car ready? ... Well I'm giving you another five minutes. ... I don't care, we're on our way down. Try anything and I'll shoot the fed, you feeling me?"

Don couldn't help the swallow at that, the timeline was impossible. There was no way the demanded car would be ready, even assuming the police were prepared to give it to him. Parker was pushing things and that only made it the more dangerous for all involved. The man didn't even wait for a response from the detective, hanging up and tossing the handset onto the couch beside his hostage.

"Up." Parker ordered.

Once he was on his feet he followed the flick of the gun and stepped slowly towards Parker. As expected his arm was taken in a firm grip and he was marched over to his door before being pulled to a stop. Taking the opportunity Don slid his feet into a comfortable pair of old sneakers he'd left by the door for his occasional run. Parker allowed him the moment before touching him on the shoulder to draw his attention.

"I don't want to kill you," Parker started in contrast to his previous threat, his voice steady and calm. "If you get me away I _will_ let you go. You gave me this chance so I'll give you a chance. I hope you're smart enough to take it."

Frustrated at his lack of voice Don once again held Parker's gaze, his own holding no promises. He wasn't sure if he could believe the man, but then Parker had as good as acknowledged no ill feelings towards him other than as a means to an end. If he achieved what he wanted he may well keep up his end of the bargain. Either way there wasn't much he could do about it at the moment.

Parker returned his stare as if trying to convince his hostage he was telling the truth before checking through the peep hole. He gave the door a solid kick with his foot before raising his voice, "Back away! We're coming out!"

A few moments later after removing the chain and unlocking the door Parker checked the peep hole again, pulling away in satisfaction. He positioned Don near the door opening and moved up behind him. "Ready?"

As the arm settled around his shoulders Don didn't feel the need to answer. The next few movements happened quickly with Parker turning the handle with his gun hand and jerking the door open before lifting the weapon to rest against the side of Don's neck. When the door had swung wide enough open to let them through they moved out into the hall. They spun quickly first one way then the other as Parker surveyed the hall for police.

They were there. At either end of the hall waited a group of officers, SWAT members at the forefront sheltering behind bullet resistant shields with their rifles at the ready. It was an intimidating picture and Don really wished he was on the other side of one of those rifles.

"Back away!" Parker shouted, spinning again to face the opposite end of the hall. No matter which way he faced he was going to have guns aimed at his back. "Back away!"

One reported the situation quietly into a handset clipped to his vest but other than that they didn't move. Parker seemed to understand that he wasn't going to get anymore space as he started moving towards the elevator, constantly turning to face both groups of officers. Don had to work hard to keep his feet under him at the rapid movements. At one point Parker's arm slipped almost to a choke hold but he quickly adjusted his grip as Don gagged. Finally they reached the elevator and they stopped for a moment, turned so that Parker had his back to the elevator doors. The gun was then pressed firmly against the side of Don's head in a clear message to hold still. The restraining arm left his shoulder and he heard the call button being pressed. The arm returned to its firm grip and Don was twisted around and pulled backwards until Parker bumped against the opposite wall. Clearly he was prepared for the possibility of officers in the elevator.

Fortunately the elevator car was empty and Parker again spun them around so he backed inside, dragging Don with him. Forcing Don against the wall he reached out and stabbed at the button for the basement before pressing the button at the bottom of the panel to close the doors. They started down.

Don took a deep breath as they descended and Parker briefly backed off. He wasn't sure what they were going to find as they reached the basement. The police would naturally be expecting the elevator to stop on the ground floor but had they made any contingency plans? Would they be waiting on the floors either side or had they even pressed the call button on the ground floor to ensure the elevator did stop there? There was just no way of knowing until they got there. The increasing tension as the floor numbers counted down made him twist his wrists against the restraints around them, serving only to increase his frustration. As they reached the third floor Parker reached for him, pulling him around and taking up his position behind him again, ready to face off with any waiting police. As the lights counted down the tension increased until they stopped at "B". Don felt Parker relax slightly as the elevator car stopped.

"Left or right?" Parker demanded sharply before the doors could open.

Don indicated left with a careful movement of his head.

The doors slid open and no one greeted them, the basement was clear. Don had no time to figure out if he felt disappointed or relieved or some of both as he was being propelled out and over towards his car. He understood the urgency, the police that would have been waiting just one floor above would know where they'd gone and would be racing to catch up to them and put paid to Parker's escape. Parker had no time to lose.

Shoved hard against the driver's side Don held still at the latest warning press of the gun against the back of his head. He heard keys jangling and felt pressure against his left wrist. A second or so later the cuff around his wrist loosened and Parker backed off.

"Get in." Parker ordered as he pressed the unlock button on the remote. "Hands on top of the steering wheel and don't even think of trying to lock the doors."

Don pulled his left wrist free of the cuffs and opened the door, climbing up and into the large vehicle. By the time he'd placed his hands on the top of the wheel Parker had slammed the door shut and was already moving quickly around the front of the vehicle, gun aimed through the windshield. Don waited as instructed as there wouldn't be any point to locking the doors, not with the remote in Parker's possession. There was also the fact that the windshield offered him no protection from the gun at this range. After a final look around Parker climbed into the passenger seat and held out the keys.

"Now you can lock the doors." Parker ordered as Don took the keys. "Good, now drive."

Before doing anything else Don took a moment to lock the loose cuff around his right wrist, the dangling end a hazard when driving. He had more than enough hazards ahead of him to need one more.

"Now!"

Holding up a placating hand Don started the engine, shifted into drive and released the park brake. They'd just started to roll as the stairwell door crashed open and officers ran out, shouting orders with their weapons raised. The words were lost in the loud music that streamed from Don's speakers; he'd had it turned up to keep him awake on his drive home only a few hours before. He reached out a hand to shut the music off but Parker was quicker.

"Keep going," Parker ordered in the sudden relative silence as officers moved up in an attempt to block their path.

A moment later Don jabbed at his brakes as a pair of SWAT officers dashed between some parked cars and made it around in front of them. Parker abruptly reached over and jerked the steering wheel to one side as he saw a gap. With his other hand he pressed the gun hard against Don's temple.

"No stopping," Parker snarled. "Hit it."

With a gap before him and the briefest moment before it would be filled Don obeyed the instruction, pressing his foot firmly on the gas pedal. He lined up on the roller door at the exit and wondered for a moment what Parker intended for him to do at the obstruction as they rapidly approached given the order not to stop. It became clear enough a moment later as Parker pulled the gun away before he pushed himself back in his seat and braced against the dash. Clearly he wasn't to stop and press his tag against the sensor inside the door. Looking through the mesh panels as best he could Don couldn't see anything on the other side as he pressed his foot harder on the gas. With a sound of screeching metal they hit the door and ripped it free from its track, the heavy SUV bulling its way through and out into the street.

Parker turned to look back but Don had no time to do likewise, forced to swerve abruptly a number of times to avoid collisions with surprised traffic. A heart pounding few seconds later he was safely in a lane and pulling away from his apartment complex. Now he could spare a glance in his mirrors to see no pursuit.

"For someone who didn't want to help me you're doing a good job." Parker crowed as he faced front again.

Don flashed the other man an angry glare as he ground his teeth. After a brief glance down at the gun still aimed his way, the sole reason he was 'helping' the man, he stared out the windshield.

"That's why I like these so much," Parker commented, once again contemplating the gun. Pleased at their escape he continued, "People will do almost anything when one is pointed at them."

As he sped past the other cars on the road Don spared a glance at Parker as he was given his first solid understanding of the types of crimes the man was wanted for.

"I prefer a .45 but anything will do in a pinch." At the narrowed gaze focused his way Parker seemed to realise he'd said too much and got back down to business. "I've said it before and it still stands, the deal is you get me away before they find us and we'll go our separate ways."

Another look in his mirrors showed only his building disappearing behind them, still no sign of any vehicles in pursuit. He looked back over at Parker as he thought it through again. As he saw it things had changed but not exactly in his favour. There was an option of pulling up and tossing his keys out of the SUV in the middle of the next intersection but he quickly gave that thought away. Parker seemed to read something in his face as he abruptly waved the gun around to encompass the people around them, both in cars or on the sidewalks.

"If you want to try something go right ahead, just be sure you pick the right spot."

He'd just decided against trying anything for precisely those reasons but the threat was clear enough. Parker was desperate to escape and was threatening now not just to kill him but anyone else that got in his way. The expression on Parker's face also made it clear that he knew that as a federal agent Don couldn't take that risk.

Not seeing any other choice Don took the next turn with an angry jerk at the wheel and then the next after that, deliberately turning to the left each time. Upon losing sight of them any pursuer was more likely to turn right following the natural instinct of the pursued in an effort to locate them. The LAPD would assume the agent would also turn right. It was help he hadn't wanted to give but there was nothing for it. After a third turn, this time to the right and onto another main thoroughfare he raised his right hand palm upwards waving it across in front of him in a clear question.

"Where?" Parker looked around before pointing west. "Up there, the hills."

.

_**A/N: **__One last chapter to go folks. See you tomorrow!_


	4. Chapter 4

**Numb3rs: Hostage**

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

* * *

**CHAPTER FOUR**

Don pulled the SUV to a stop, putting the vehicle into park a moment before the keys were pulled from the ignition.

They'd been driving for an hour with no challenge. Don's earlier manoeuvring had seemed to do the trick, throwing off any immediate pursuit. Parker had ordered him to slow back to the speed limit after they'd gone another few blocks with the result that the black SUV was lost in the background of the thickening morning traffic. He'd heard a helicopter pass overhead a short time later after they'd reached the Pasadena Freeway but by that time their SUV was just one of the black SUVs that littered Los Angeles roads and the machine had moved on. Only his plates distinguished his vehicle and they were hard enough to spot clearly from the air. He'd seen an obviously patrolling black & white at one point on the 210 but it was on the wrong side of the road separated by a concrete divider and it also passed on without recognising them. He'd been about to try to signal the squad car by flashing his headlights but Parker had been watching him carefully and he'd kept both hands on the wheel.

They ended up travelling more north than west as Parker directed him off the 210 onto smaller and smaller roads until they drove through suburbia. They had finally turned onto a road that diminished into little more than a mountain trail winding its way upwards above Altadena.

Looking around he did not like what he could see. They were completely alone, the small dirt area he'd been instructed to pull into off the dirt trail was completely deserted and they'd not passed another vehicle for some time. Beyond the edge of the dirt were scrubby trees. Anything could happen and no one would hear let alone be able to intervene. In rising trepidation he turned to face Parker.

"Hands on the wheel," Parker ordered as he opened his door. "Don't move."

In a reverse of what had happened in the basement of his building Parker moved around the front of the SUV, gun pointing through the windshield the whole way. Next he pulled open the driver's door and stood back, waving the gun in a clear instruction.

"Out."

Don climbed down and following the next jerk of the gun closed his door and walked ahead of Parker towards a thicker stand of trees.

The promise to let him go if they succeeded in their escape seemed an unlikely prospect now as the trees loomed closer. A bullet in the back of his head out here and his body may not be found for weeks, if at all. Don slowed as he tried desperately to think of a way out, searching the ground ahead of him for any potential weapons. He had just the one advantage; Parker had not re-cuffed him so his hands were free.

"Move it!" Parker ordered impatiently, shoving the agent in the back.

Without thinking Don took the opportunity and spun quickly to the left, arms up and moving across his body. He'd guessed right, managing to strike at Parker's gun arm, pushing it outwards and away. Then the dirt shifted beneath his feet putting him off balance enough that he was unable to follow through with a grab for the gun. Instead Don balled his right fist and aimed it at Parker's head, the weight of the handcuffs about his wrist adding momentum. He connected but Parker had used Don's initial push to twist away and the blow was not as successful as he'd hoped.

Parker now ducked and spun, a foot lashing out just as Don was trying to recover from his strike. The foot hooked his ankle and Don tumbled. He rolled and came up setting himself to swing again but Parker was ready and this time it was his fist that connected and Don found himself again on the dusty ground. He lashed out with a leg but missed as Parker moved back, right arm coming up.

Lying helplessly on his back Don held up his hands as the gun steadied on target, Parker too far away for him to do anything.

"Don't do this." Don's words were rough but understandable. The injury to his throat had eased enough now that he could now talk after a fashion.

Parker wiped at the blood at the corner of his mouth where the agent's fist had connected. He jerked the gun angrily. "Why shouldn't I after what you just tried?"

Don cleared his throat after a cough, the need to speak overwhelming any pain it cost him. It was all he had left to save himself. "I'm betting you haven't killed anyone before and..." His words trailed off at the change of expression on Parker's face.

"I have killed before." The words were cold and completely truthful.

Don managed a painful swallow in a throat suddenly gone dry. He hadn't expected that. He'd believed that the man could but didn't think he'd actually killed before. The admission alone was more than enough motivation now for Parker to kill him. He froze, hardly daring to breathe as he waited helplessly for whatever Parker decided to do next.

"I made a deal with you."

"I got you away," Don argued. Despite the roughness of his voice the accusing tone made it through clearly enough. He had held up his end only to have been forced into a remote area where the only outcome he could see was death.

"And I was going to let you go."

Don waited as the silence stretched, his focus shifting to the finger resting on the Glock's trigger. Finally he could stand it no longer. "And now?"

"And now I've got enough heat on me without killing a fed," Parker finally said taking a step back and relaxing his aim slightly.

Don dropped his hands and lay back, catching his breath in relief. He was far from out of danger but the moment had passed. He heard keys jingling as he waited.

"Get up," Parker finally ordered.

Bringing his hands back up Don nodded, taking another moment to coordinate himself enough to roll over and climb carefully to his feet.

"Catch," Parker said.

Don flinched as the man's left hand moved, tossing something small that flashed silver at him. He snatched at it but his coordination was off enough after the adrenalin dump of a few minutes ago that it bounced off his hand before he could close his fingers. As it landed in the dirt he recognised the handcuff key.

"Pick it up and cuff yourself to a tree over there."

He looked in the direction the gun had jerked, seeing the denser set of trees he'd been walking towards earlier. The darker green of their colouring suggested there was perhaps even a small creek in the gully he could see their midst. Slowly he bent and picked up the key. "And then what?"

"Then I leave and call in where I've left you."

He hesitated thinking that leaving him to die of exposure chained to a tree was as good as shooting him but then he remembered Parker claiming not to want the additional heat of killing him. He was about to open his mouth when another thought struck him. Parker had not moved, had instead ordered the agent to head to the trees. Don tested it, taking a couple of careful steps backwards, keeping his gaze locked on the other man. Parker stayed rooted to the spot, keeping the gun up and tracking him but making no move to follow. Don backed away further but still Parker didn't follow. Another few yards found him at the edge of the trees. He stopped and glanced into the stand, picking out a path before turning back to see Parker backing away, stepping towards the SUV.

Don recalled Parker's words from back in his apartment, he'd given the man a chance and so he would be given a chance in return. This was it, his chance. As if sensing his thoughts Parker jerked his head. Don needed no further encouragement, turning and running into the trees following the path he'd picked out. He didn't glance back, just moved as quickly as he could down into the gully, splashing across the shallow trickle and up the other side. Now he stopped with his back to a tree and held his breath as he listened for sound of pursuit. All he heard was the rumble of the SUV as it drove down the road a short distance away. He looked towards the sound through the trees and saw a last flash of sunlight off a window as the vehicle turned a corner. His legs suddenly lost their strength and he slid down to sit on the ground panting hard as the SUV faded into the distance.

* * *

He later wasn't able to describe how long he'd sat there but eventually he got himself back to his feet and down to the small creek where he drank some water to ease the burning in his throat. It took a couple of attempts but he got the cuffs off his wrist and shoved into his pocket before he started walking. He kept to the trees rather than the road itself even as he felt sure that Parker was long gone. Finally he reached the first of a line of houses and he watched for a few minutes before moving out from concealment.

Things moved rather quickly after that. The teenage boy at the first house he tried let him in, gave him some more water and called 911. A short time later the narrow street was crowded with marked and unmarked police cars, a few black FBI SUVs and one lonely paramedic's bus. A helicopter roared overhead, making its way up into the hills even as Don insisted Parker was not up there.

Despite his protests he found himself bundled into the ambulance for a ride down to hospital to have his throat checked with an agent and Detective Goodridge travelling with him to get his statement. It was a frustrating ride for them all when the paramedic fussing over him insisted that he should rest his throat and not speak. Don finally took the detective's notebook and jotted down what had happened from leaving his apartment to arriving at the house. All he could do was shake his head when asked where Parker may be heading, he just didn't know.

It was the agent that came up with their first break, they finally got a fix on the SUVs GPS transponder. There had been a glitch in the system that had prevented them tracking it before now. By the time they had arrived at the hospital news came back from the agents and police that had followed the signal. The SUV had been abandoned in a shopping centre parking lot. Three vehicles were reported stolen around that time, with each being found before the day was out.

"He's gone then." Don said against doctor's orders to rest his damaged throat.

Detective Goodridge nodded. It was late in the evening and he was sitting on the couch that had been shot in Don's apartment. He'd been giving the agent a run down on the investigation. "We've had sightings but you know how reliable they are."

The agent nodded. Parker's description had been released to the media with most television stations and radio networks saturating the airwaves with the information. It was rare even in LA that they got a story as thrilling as an FBI agent being held hostage and forced to drive across the city in broad daylight. The LAPD were copping a beating over their early handling of the situation but at least the description of the fugitive was out there, the bad press they were used to.

Goodridge glanced over at the agent's relatives that were hovering in the kitchen, giving the illusion of privacy even if it seemed they weren't willing to leave the agent alone. He'd seen their reaction when they'd arrived at the hospital and sympathised. It was never easy when a cop or agent in this case, was threatened or injured. He'd been so sure that the situation was going to end badly and had been so relieved when it hadn't that he taken their anger calmly as he explained what had happened whilst the agent had received medical treatment. The looks that were sent his way now weren't exactly friendly but were less accusing than they'd been earlier now that they'd received the whole story from both sides.

Goodridge stood. "I think I'll leave you to it, Agent."

"Thank-you, Detective." Don said as he escorted the man to the door. "Keep me up to date."

"Sure." Goodridge replied, shaking hands. They both knew finding Parker now was unlikely.

Turning back from the door Don found his father and Charlie both heading towards him. He reached out and took the offered beer from his father's hand as they settled back on the couches. Ironically the beer was actually, in a roundabout way, medically recommended. It was cold and he'd been told to have cold drinks to ease the swelling in his throat.

"Will he be back?" Alan asked. He' heard the conversation but wanted reassurance.

After a long swallow of his beer Don shook his head. "He's in the wind, Dad. He's got no reason to come back and every reason to keep his head down."

"LAPD are sending the Bureau everything they have on him," Charlie said. "They were about to anyway before they found him."

Don nodded. Parker had been wanted for extortion and kidnapping. There had been a spate of the crimes over the last two weeks with most not reported until the last few days. The LAPD had run out some inquiries their end, reluctant to simply hand it over as protocol dictated. Even so they'd been about to call in the FBI when they'd got a break and ID'd the offender. Unusually it seemed Parker had been working alone.

He'd arrived in town the month before, moving into a furnished apartment in Don's building with little more than a suitcase of clothes. He'd spent two weeks getting the lay of the land before starting on his spree. Subsequent investigations after the attack on Don had turned up two other cities where Parker was believed to have operated under other names. He would strike again, that much Don was sure of. Unless Charlie found him first.

He raised his beer bottle. "Here's to your expressions, Charlie. With you on the case, Parker doesn't stand a chance."

"Here, here." Alan echoed.

END

_**A/N: **__I hope the quick ending doesn't disappoint but it really wasn't to Parker's advantage to take the agent with him any further._

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